


The Answers That Never Come

by Comeback_Kid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gore, Harm, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Near Death, Physical Abuse, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Violence, bloog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:19:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10539150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comeback_Kid/pseuds/Comeback_Kid
Summary: Cas can't grasp humanity again. The struggles and the pain that come with it. Finding himself overwhelmed after facing his own death by the hands of a prince of hell have taken its toll on his mental stamina and he starts to wall himself off from the Winchesters. Everything comes crashing down in one swift attempt to find an escape out from the pain and disappointment.





	1. Help Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a highly graphic story of Cas attempting suicide, there will be relatively graphic depictions of it all as well as Dean and Sam living with the aftermath of the actions while trying to find a way to help Cas understand his worth.

_“The first cut is the deepest baby I know, the first cut is the deepest, cause when it comes to bein’ lucky he’s cursed–”_

Dean made an offhand remark about how dumb the song was. Some comment about how it only really hurt that much if people loved that much.

Cas didn’t really listen to him. He just rolled his eyes and looked out the window, watching the landscape blur as the drove.

He left his tie on Sam’s bed. Sam looked nice in blue. Cas knew it would compliment him well.

Cas left his coat on the hanger on the backside of Dean’s door. He knew how much he hated that coat- not even a sliver of how much he loved it. He knew it would keep Dean safe from emotions that could be overwhelming.

He kept the water on the cooler side. Cas kept his black pants and white dress shirt on. Rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and just sat in the tub while the water still ran.

_“The first cut is the deepest, baby I know.”_

The lyric came to mind out of nowhere and if it hadn’t been such a dark, morbid act he was about to commit, maybe there would’ve been a sense of comic relief. Perhaps he would’ve laughed, set the knife down and climbed out. But nothing had been the same since Lucifer had resided in him. Nothing had been the same since “the fall.” Nothing had been the same since he'd forgotten what his purpose was, if he had one or if it'd just washed away with the rest of his worth. He hadn’t been himself since a prince of hell drove Michael’s spear through his lower ribs like some sort of tribute to the story of Christianity’s Christ.

The first cut was the deepest- he couldn’t hold back the cry that left his lips as the metal peeled his wrist apart and sent red splashing over the side of the tub and into the water. But he clenched his teeth and did it again. Another long line up right beneath the first- his breath racing. His chest rising and falling in panic. He leaned forward in the tub, shaky hands exchanging the knife so that he could drag the blade right through the veins and arteries of his other arm.

Exhaustion and regret at the same time. Cas leaned back, felt his arms float in the warmth of the blood red water. He closed his eyes, breathing in and out and waited. Quiet overtook the bathroom.

Sam found the letter. He didn’t need to read it. He barely even skimmed it. The scribbled out sentences, the torn edges, the way it has been crumpled up and smoothed out again and again- all he saw was

“I love you, with all my fucked up existence, I love you. Love, Cas”

He screamed for Dean. Racing down the bunker hall with the note crushed in his fist. He kept yelling for Dean, stopping when the floor seemed to slide out from under him, crashing into the wall and realizing it was water that had overflowed from the bathtub.

“Cas? Cas? Cas no! Cas come on, come on buddy, come on it’s ok, you’re ok, you’re ok you’re alright, please- please, Cas- Cas please, no come on-” Dean sounded like a lost child.

Sam’s shoes sloshed in the bright red water staining the floor ways as Dean struggled to pull Cas out from the bathtub. Sam’s phone connected with the emergency operator, but he couldn’t- he couldn’t talk.

“C-Cas, Cas come on. Come on-”

“No Sam- Sammy don’t- don’t touch him- don’t- call 911, Sammy call-”

There were already emergency vehicles outside by the time Dean pushed through the heavy bunker door with the limp, paled body of Cas in his arms, blood still drawing lines down his hands, collecting in heavy drops at his fingertips. “Help- help me- help me please, help him, please, please.” Dean pleaded even as they took Cas’ body from him.

Dean paced the hospital hallway while Sam sat in a chair outside the room Cas was in waiting for any word on if he was ok, if he'd make it-- if they'd be planning a hunters funeral. Waiting. It was a game nobody ever actually wanted to play, but one everyone did regardless.


	2. Out There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam come to terms with what loving someone with suicidal tendencies means. Together they work to understand what Cas is going through rather than sweeping it under the rug and forcing him to "just be ok". The work to understand each other and in the process learn a lot more about each other than any of them really knew to begin with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a highly graphic story of Cas attempting suicide and the aftermath of recovery. There will be relatively graphic depictions of it all as well as Dean and Sam learning more about Castiel's history while trying to find a way to help Cas understand his worth.

It was hard facing Cas when they were finally able to go in and see him.

He was asleep. And from that viewpoint he looked perfectly fine. Like nothing had ever bothered him before- as if he'd never even tried to kill himself. Sam set his hand on Dean’s shoulder and stared at Cas in the bed.

“Do we, I mean can we...?”

“I don’t think so.” Dean finished Sam’s question. Figuring they couldn’t really press Cas for answers. Couldn’t ask him the age old question _“why?”_ Because maybe Cas didn’t have a why. Maybe **they** were the why. Maybe he didn’t want to tell his why. All they could really do is be there for Cas when he woke up. Just be there. And try to understand, try to love him as best as they knew how, even if that just meant being there and being quiet.

They couldn’t love a persons suicide away- that wasn’t how love worked. They didn’t love to magically heal people- it wasn’t how life worked. It just wasn’t.

Cas slept nearly the rest of the day and some of the night, a few monitors connected to him, but nothing that could lead to any sudden danger. Dean would move when nurses came to check on him and run vitals, and he'd answer their questions, reply to their smalltalk with as many answers he could give them without getting angry. Sam would run his hands through the mess of Cas’ brown hair every once in a while before setting tender fingers on the white bandages that covered Cas’ entire forearm on both arms, staring at the dark bruises that settled their way up to the bends on his elbows.

It was a day, maybe it was two days? Dean wasn’t sure. In all honesty, time had seemed to stop after he’d found Cas in the bathtub. Somewhere between yelling at Sam to call 911 and having Cas taken from him time had just blended into... one long hour. When he heard Cas would make it time just seemed to move even slower while he waited for Cas to-- come back. Whatever day it was, Dean didn’t care, all he cared about was how Cas’ face scrunched up at first before he squinted his eyes open and then squeezed them closed again, Dean listened to the quiet inhale from him.

“Smells like soap.” They were interesting first words for realizing he was still in the land of the living. Dean didn't have to force a smile, god he'd never been so... fucking happy to hear that nearly monotone voice.

“They just bathed you.” Dean watched Cas register his voice and open his eyes again. And he acknowledged the tears that came immediately after, getting up from the chair and leaning over Cas to hug him close. “It’s ok man, it’s alright.” He tried to assure Cas, seeing him cry, hell, seeing him laying in the fucking bed like some pale human messed with him a little more than he realized.

He’d had a long while to recall Cas and his features. How the blue of his eyes was just right, just the right kind of blue he liked. How his dark brown hair stood out against the warm, tan color of his sun-kissed skin. How his jawline was always so– defined. How his nose crinkled when he smiled and that dorky laugh he had– Dean shook himself back to the moment.

“Are you mad at me?” Cas asked him and Dean had to really process the mumbles to make sure he’d heard him right. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m-”

Dean just kept hugging him. Sam came in not long after with a cup of ice and a snack from the vending room for families. Pausing in the doorway for a second as he took it in. His eyes lit up a little, walking over to the bed, a breathless “Cas, hey.” Rolling right off his tongue as Dean moved over for him, letting him beside the bed, keeping his hands on Cas' arm, not ready to sit back down, not ready for too much space yet.

“How’re you feeling man? I, uh- I brought some ice if you want…” He offered, feeling his eyes water and his heart race a bit when Cas looked at him still mostly crying. “It’s ok man, it’s alright.” Sam set the cup by the bed table and leaned down to hug Cas like Dean had before him. “I missed you man.” He hugged him just as hard as Dean- his body flooding with relief at the simple sight of Cas awake.

Tears still lingered on their lashes, but a calm sort of quietness overtook the room after a minute or two. Dean sat back down and Sam sat on the bedside, swinging his legs slowly, setting the cup of ice beside Cas and watching him pull out a few pieces. "Are you mad at me?" Cas asked again, his voice somewhat hoarse, but almost whispered. His eyes focused on the melting ice in his hands. 

"I'm, no Cas." Sam was the first to start. "We're not mad at you... look man, I get it. I, I get it." he exhaled heavily, looking to his hands between his knees and just sitting quietly, like any words he'd had just dried right up. 

"Cas, I'm mad at myself man." Dean spoke up after that, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the side of the bed, next to Cas' shoulder. "I'm... I'm pissed that i didn't know you were this hurt man, I'm mad that I, I'm mad at how I've treated you man, I'm mad that it took me finding you dead-" Sam kicked Dean's knee at the bluntness. "-almost dead then, in a bathtub. I'm not mad at you Cas, you're my best friend and I wasn't here for you." he didn't realize he was fidgeting with the tie strings on the sleeve of Cas' hospital gown until Cas set a hand over his fingers. "Cas, you're.... without you man, this world just- it would suck man. It would fucking suck." he flipped his hand to grab Cas' fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze and then letting go. 

"Cas, I know we don't say it, like, ever, but uh- we love you man. Really, we do." Sam followed up softly, turning a little to rest a hand on Cas' leg, shaking it softly. "And we're gonna be here for you, Cas. We're gonna listen and we're gonna help if we can. We're gonna be here man, till you feel like you're ready to try going back home, we'll be here with you."


End file.
